


Keep Me Close

by UghThisIsTerrible (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, D'Qar, Finn waking up, Fluff, Lots of Crying, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Resistance, Stormpilot, This is going to be really long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:26:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6708370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/UghThisIsTerrible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn has woken up after days of of unconsciousness to see the D'Qar rebel base is being evacuated and Rey is gone. Poe, the best pilot in the resistance and his best friend, is now wholly and entirely responsible for Finn, as appointed by General Organa. As the rebel alliance continues to fight against a flustered First Order, Finn learns to become a different type of soldier under the careful guidance of his best friend. But things aren’t that easy. 20 years of Stormtrooper training and a pilot’s most destructive insecurities clash with the new affectionate catalyst between Poe and Finn as the pair fall into something neither anticipated, but both desperately needed. Will these new desperate reliances and unknown feelings be what solidifies these two soldiers lives, or will it wreck havoc on everything they have fought to keep safe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Me Close

As the summer months approached, D’Qar’s days not only become longer, but stickier. The humidity had reached a near unbearable level, leaving most of the Resistance members still on the base regretting their decision to stay and make sure the base was securely packed up. The sun beat down mercilessly on every single sentient being upon the face of the planet, to the point where Commander Dameron had ordered his BB unit to stay indoors during the periods of time from 11 a.m. until 8 p.m. when the sun had sunk behind the vast tree line and the air would subtly cool.

The resistance pilot was not being forced to stay on the planet, unlike some of the other higher ranking officials were, in fact he was encouraged to leave to help and set up the new hangar bay on Dantooine. The pilot however, had completely rejected this incentive and instead had stayed on D’Qar to help the Resistance transfer their goods and materials onto the old Taylander shuttles, which would take off periodically throughout the day, taking more goods and people with them. These shuttles were the only breeze provided throughout the day, and even though each take off tore another hole of dread in Poe Dameron’s chest, he looked forward to the rush of air on his hot skin. 

The process of relocating the base to Dantooine had already taken the the better part of two weeks. General Organa wanted them off D’Qar in a half a month while the First Order was still recklessly trying to regain its control after the destruction of Star Killer base. When Poe had returned from that mission and seen Finn safely to the med bay, he had turned to find the General with open arms and a big smile. “Maybe someday they’ll learn to stop making big circles that blow things up because I always end up with the best pilots.” Poe had swooned with pride at this, being recognized as a pilot up there with the late Han Solo and Luke Skywalker, and even his mother, even though she never blew up a circle. 

Poe had only recently realized the genius of sending the resistance to Dantooine after Generals Organa and Ackbar had burst out laughing at Leia’s idea. Dantooine had been an abandoned rebel base that the general had told the Empire the rebels were located in an attempt to save her home world Alderaan. She hadn’t been technically lying, there WAS an unfinished base there, but the rebels had abandoned it for Yavin 4. The pilot sighed gently thinking of the small moon, with it’s beautiful flowers the crept over the garden wall of his home and the birds he would watch chitter out of his window as a child. When things calmed down, Poe would ask for a week or two of leave so he could return and visit his father, who had surely grown lonely these past few years.  
He knew Kes didn’t blame him for being gone, in fact Poe’s father was damn proud of his son and his work in the Resistance, but the pilot felt that he had left his father all alone, after years of excellent military service he was back to cargo freighting, but this time it was without Shara. Poe dragged himself out of his thoughts of home back to the present, his hands deep within the mechanisms of his X-wing, fingers slick with grease. The air around him smelt of oil and sweat, and he could taste the salt on his lips as he continued to twist the gear he was working on. Pulling a hand back, he wiped the oil off on his bare chest, forgetting that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, making a bigger mess of himself than he already was. 

Poe was not the most vain person, but the heat and anxiety had not done him well. Humidity had flattened the curls in his hair and the constant slickness of the sweat on his skin had become an obnoxious reminder from his body that: guess what? It’s hot! He had left his shirt in his room today, only wearing the jumpsuit up to his hips, where the belt clipped around his waist and tying off the rest of the jumpsuit to the back. The only thing he had left of his upper uniform on were his dog tags, not because he needed to be identifiable, every single soldier on this base knew EXACTLY who the hell Poe Dameron was, but because it reminded him of exactly why he was doing this: because it was the right thing to do.

Poe had four metal tags hanging from the chain on his neck, two were his, the one as a soldier and the other as a pilot, the third was Shara Bey’s, one of the last artifacts he could carry around of his mothers, and the fourth was tag issued to Finn, who was unable to receive it now, and so Poe kept it with his others to make sure Finn would have it the second he woke up. 

The ex-Stormtrooper had been in a shock induced coma for the past 13 days, the scathing mark on his back had begun to heal, but the boy had not opened his eyes. Major Kalonia had agreed, upon Poe’s desperate plea’s, to stay on D’Qar until Finn woke up, but the problem had arisen that Finn might not wake up before they were scheduled to leave in five days. Jess upon finding her Squad Leader with tears dripping off his chin behind a freighter had held Poe for a good twenty minutes comforting him. Poe felt that no one really understood what this felt like, to be saved by someone, to loose them, and then by the grace of the stars to feel them back in your arms in the place you never expected too see them again. And now he had to stand over his still body, while no progress or deterioration took place, just miserable waiting and stasis. 

The pilot’s breath came shuddering out as he closed and sealed the belly of his X-wing, dropping too the floor below, pushing his deflated hair out of his eyes. BB-8 chirped at him the second his feet touched the floor, chittering about observations and a small droid joke as the pair walked and rolled toward the dimly lit base, the night drawing in cold and darkness. “What do you mean he knocked you over?” Poe asked, furrowing his brow, looking at the small scuff on his droid. BB-8 beeped back, recounting how a soldier kicked the small droid over when he was rolling outside. Poe didn’t like people who were rude to droids, especially people who were rude to HIS droid. He understood the frustration of the soldier, BB-8 waited by the door of the hangar bay all day until he was allowed to come out at eight, where, every day, on the dot, he zoomed out, full speed toward Poe. Still however, it was no where near a good excuse to hurt the little orange and white droid, who got excited about seeing his pilot. 

When they reached Poe’s bunk, he opened the door and the little droid raced in, chittering his observations and cute comments. Poe smiled gently, washing his hands in the bucket by the door. “Stand still.” he commanded, grabbing a damp rag and dropping to his knees next to the droid, who quieted and stayed motionless next to the pilot. Poe’s hands were gentle as he wiped the scuff mark off of the BB unit, who emitted a low sad sound at the look on Poe’s face. “Don’t you dare be sorry. I’ll find the prick that kicked you and I want the apology from them.” 

After the scuff was gone and BB-8 had received an extra wax wash, Poe straightened up, grabbing a towel and the bottle of soap. “I need a shower buddy, I’ll be right back.” The droid beeped at him questioningly. “Shit your right. I’ll just be extra quick and I’ll get to that meeting with General Organa on time.” Poe jogged down the hallway until he reached the showers which were fortunately empty. Poe picked the shower in the corner of the room with the most privacy and the best water pressure, turning the knob to the midway point. It had been too hot of a day for his normal scalding showers. The pilot stripped from the sweaty and grease streaked jumpsuit, tossing it into the laundry bin. Normally there would be a mountain of clothes over the lip of the bin, but as of today, it was only half full. 

Poe stepped into the water, letting the droplets wash away the salt on his skin. The spray against his back relaxed the muscles there, and he would have been content to sit in the jet spray of water for a good hour, letting his body relax, but his pressing meeting with the general took precedence over a relaxing shower. Pushing open the the bottle of soap, the showers echoed with the click of the cap and the soft liquid dripped over Poe’s palm. Running one hand through the soapy mass of hair and suds that smelt like artificial jade rose, and the other hand over the grease stains over his chest and lower abdomen, the pilot awkwardly cleaned up in his rush. After the soap had been washed over every part of his body, Poe turned the water off and dried himself, rubbing the towel in the sporadic movement of a person trying to get ready in a rush. Tucking the towel against his waist he glanced at himself in the mirror adjacent to the wall with the partition. He had forgotten to shave this morning, and a slow shadow had over taken his jaw. Although his skin was tan naturally, the constant sun had left him darker and slightly red. He looked exhausted, but at least his hair, now dry, had revived some of its curly bounce. 

Satisfied with his appearance, Poe waltzed down the hallway, back to his room. Upon entering, he pulled the towel off, tossing it onto the bed. BB-8 was playing with a piece of paper on the floor, and chirped a greeting at Poe, who laughed his own greeting back at the sight of the sophisticated droid attempting to pick up the paper with his two pronged tool. Poe pulled a crisp white shirt over his head, the material sticking to his chest and abdomen, and then a pair of boxers up to his hips. The pilot grabbed another clean jumpsuit, tying in in the same manner after clicking the belt around his waist. Finally he pulled on his socks and boots, and opened the door to the hallway. “Come on bud lets go.” The droid made a final effort at the scrap before pulling out his lighter and burning it into a small bit of dust on the floor and rolling from the room.

Poe walked down the halls, keeping up a steady conversation with his droid, the underlying anxiety in his stomach now pushing itself up to the front of his mind and his chest. He picked up the droid, carrying it down the stairs into the main control room. The main control room glowed with various lights and colors, from a pulsating red to a gentle and steady blue, all from the different various machiner. The general was leaning on the console, staring at something in her hands. She looked very small next to the large hologram, and her shoulders slumped over, exhaustion seeming to pull on her like a stronger gravity. When Poe moved in closer, he could see it was a worn, cream colored, folded shirt in her grip. Her thumb gently stroked over the fabric. “He never left anything behind you know.” He could hear the smile in her voice, but it was a ruse, used to mask the sadness. “Every time he walked away, it was for good. He would never come back to me, he’d say. But he did every time.” Leia turned to face Poe, her face softened by the smile one her lips. “ I remember after the night we got married, he gave me this shirt. I was so confused by it, and he just told me, ‘Leia, it’s my favorite shirt in the whole galaxy, I’d never leave it behind.” She paused and laughed, her eyes looking up to meet Poe’s. 

“When I was so much younger, I never really understood why he would give it to me. But now I get it was that emotionally immature nerf herders way of telling me he wasn’t ever really going to leave. He had no other way of explaining how he loved me, so he left me a shirt.” She was laughing harder, but Poe could see all the hurt in her laugh, all the years of memories and love weighing down on her.  
“He loved Ben so much.” She nearly whispered, her smile fading. “He was one of those guys who never thought he’d get a family and, and he was such a good father.” The room was silent save the noises of the few whirring machines. BB-8 rolled up to her, making a gentle noise. “Thank you.” The general whispered down at the little droid, the smile back on her face. And then the sad and nostalgic Leia was gone, replaced by the matter of fact and intimidating General Organa “Unfortunately we aren’t here to talk about my tragedy, but yours.” Poe stiffened, the stone in his stomach ripping holes in his organs. 

“Poe I don’t know what else to tell you. He isn’t dying, but he isn’t getting better. There is no way of actually knowing if he’ll survive if we take him off life support and I don’t know if we have the means of transporting him to Dantooine securely and discreetly.” The words echoed throughout the control room and Poe wasn’t sure he could register them properly. “So what does that mean?”

The general sighed, her hand flattening the hair on the back of her neck. “It means you have five days to figure something out, I’ll do whatever I can, but I can’t do everything.” He nodded at her, feeling as if his body was too weak to even breathe but somehow he was still be held up, as if the still air was more alive and stronger than him. Leia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking up at the pilot, “Poe I’m sorry.” He nodded, unable to drag his gaze from the floor. “It’s okay, general. It isn’t your fault.” Her eyes searched his face, before she finally released him sighing. “You’re dismissed commander, unless you need to discuss something else.”

“No ma’am. Thank you.” Poe picked up BB-8 once more, who was making sad noises, asking about Finn, and carried him up the stairs. The pair continued walking toward their room, but Poe took an abrupt turn away from the pilot quarters, toward the other half of the base. BB-8 refrained their questions, following Poe to the med bay. 

The room was dimly lit, the only light being the bluish-green hue pulsing with each of Finn’s heartbeats on the life support monitor. His body was suspended a few centimeters above the bed, so that the wound on his back would not be pressed down by the weight of his body.

Finn’s face looked the same as it had when he was awake, his cheeks round and lower lip slightly pushed out in that gentle pout of his. The complexion and tone of his face was neutral and smooth, he looked unafraid, peaceful. Poe wished those big brown eyes would open back up and glint their mischief and passion into Poe’s own expression.  
The pilot pulled up the nearest stool, sitting down slowly, watching his friend’s body slowly drift in the humming light. Poe’s throat felt taught, the dryness clutching at his words. The breath shuddered from his lungs as he reached up, his hand breaking into the lightweight gravity field around the soldier. Poe clasped at his friends, Finn’s fingers holding no resistance against Poe’s grip, but they lack any real warmth or reassuring squeeze that Poe Dameron desperately needed. The hotness in his eyes and cheeks overwhelmed him, and he looked away, letting his head hang, still not releasing his grip. “Buddy you’ve got to wake up.”

Only the machine responded, with it’s rhythmic beeping, the only proof Finn was really still here. “Please.” Poe’s voice had dropped into a broken whisper, every syllable caught by barely suppressed sobs. “I need you to wake up. I-I can’t leave you here, I can’t even imagine you not waking up after, after ev, everything-” the tears had finally spilled over the lower lash line of his eyes, and if it hadn’t been for his insufferable stuttering, he wouldn’t have noticed how badly his sorrows were rocking his body.

“Please, for the love of every star in existence, don’t... don’t leave us. You are so brave and, and, and...” He continued stuttering, raising his blurry gaze back to the gleaming skin of the ex-stormtrooper, “You can’t go, Rey really cares about you and she’s gonna bring back Luke, and damnit, you made that happen you should be around to see it, and buddy BB-8 would miss you so much.” The air snapped into his lungs with his attempt to regain control of himself, rubbing the tears off his cheeks. “I’d fucking miss you too. I already miss you to much.” Poe stood up, not letting go of Finn’s hand, moving in closer to the bed, the steady pulse so much calmer than the one thundering through his own chest. Poe let his hand rest on Finn’s chest, and slowly it traveled up his chest, the cotton cloth below his finger tips changing to hot flesh as he let his fingers dance up to Finn’s neck. Closing his eyes, he felt for a pulse, and forced calm and deep breaths out of his throat until the pulses matched. “Come back to me buddy.” He whispered, his voice hoarse. The pilot leaned down, letting his lips gently press against Finn’s hairline, squeezing his eyes shut at the contact. 

Once Poe released his friends hand, he walked slowly back to his room, BB-8 rolling behind him. The door clicked open and cold air rushed into Poe’s face. He closed it behind him, stripping himself of the boots and jumpsuit he had worn. The pilot pat his droid’s head gently, climbing into the cot, pulling the cold sheets on top of his exhausted frame. “G’night BB-8” The little orange and white droid chirped it’s own salutation before powering down in the corner of the room with Poe’s toolbox.  
The next morning Poe went through his normal routine. He showered with an again decreased amount of pilots, ate a breakfast consisting of veg-meat and bread, oiled BB-8, and began to load up another freighter. Despite his advice, black squadron had stayed behind with Poe, who even though they said it was because they like the D’Qar sun, was sure they stayed to make sure he’d have as much support as he needed when things went south with Finn.

The sun was worse today, and it wasn’t long until the entirety of black squadron was walking around in shorts and underclothes, Karé ditching the latter entirely. Poe was sure his back was gonna snap in two here soon, but did not dare complain, as being only 32 wasn’t that bad in physical health related areas, just the constant strain the past few days had not been beneficial. The sun was in the middle of the sky when the team finally decided to take a break. 

Poe sat against a piece of cargo waiting to be loaded, gulping down inhumane amounts of water, some of it splashing over the corners of his lips and down his throat. It was messy but honestly he didn’t care. Poe pushed the sweaty mass of hair out of his eyes, observing the jungle around them. The tree’s were lush, flowers hanging from low branches and purple fruits dipping into vision from the tops of canopies. The grass was tall and thick, creating an almost fence like border between the Resistance landing strip and the jungle beyond. One flower peaked out from the wall of grass, light blue with streaks of silver pollen along the inner rings of the flower. It was unquestionably beautiful, and he would have gone and picked it if he had been positive it wasn’t poisonous. A smile twitched across his lips, and he pulled himself back up, emptying the last of his water bottle into his mouth, setting the empty container on top of the cargo.

Poe had just picked up another box when Jess came running up to him, yelling something from across the landing strip. He brown braid flung maniacally behind her as she pushed her speed limit toward him. Placing the cargo down again, Poe began to run to her and met her halfway. “Jess whats wrong?” She was panting, but had a grin plastered on her face, trying to get her breath back to answer him. She leaned on her knees nearly doubled over, but raised her smirking eyes back up at him, breathlessly responding, “He woke up.”


End file.
